Throw open your window and let the scenery of clouds and sky enter your room.

Throw open your window and let the scenery of clouds and sky enter your room.

I came to the flowers; I slept beneath them; this was my leisure.

The end of spring- the poet is brooding about editors.

White dew- one drop on each thorn

The spring sea rising and falling, rising and falling all day.

In pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away.